Individuality
by Bordity
Summary: It wasn't a matter of abuse, he was refused, hindered and destined to live a crippled life under the palm of authority, so he took matters into his own hands, using his own tools and whatever was available. In the dutiful world of shinobi, Naruto came to learn that it was all about individuality.
1. Chapter 1

A young blond strolled through the sprawling streets of Konohagakure no Sato; the rush hour was at its peak, so no one paid him much mind as he passed, though a few choice glances were thrown his way, they ranged from disgruntlement to disgust.

The blond had long gotten used to the glances, so it was no bother to him, an individuals' opinion was his choice, even if it was ignorant or misguided.

He eventually moved away from the hustle and bustle of mid-day Konoha and arrived at his destination, the Red light district, which was adequately empty – or dead while the sun still shone in the sky. It's bright glare accented how dilapidated and slummy the whole area looked; paint was peeling off of towering buildings while the paths and roads between the various structures were uneven and broken with lack of maintenance, shop fronts and 'organizations' dotted every corner, giving the old district a bit of colour, as if a faded world were splotched with the lazy flick of a rainbow coloured paintbrush.

That was the only real purpose of this publically ignored zone, its diverse choice of shops, a treasure beyond gold and silver. Though most were closed at the moment, the blond navigated to one not too far from the district's entrance; it displayed a bright glowing sign reading, " _taboo tattoo_ ," it was one of the few to be seemingly open at this early hour.

The blond always found the name silly, but, it wasn't the worst he'd seen up to this point, the deeper you went into the district, the weirder it got, that was the nature of this place.

He quickly stepped into the shop, listening to the small bell ring at the entrance, he moved towards the backroom. The bored young woman sitting at the counter raised her head momentarily to look at the child before going back to her own business, the blond was a regular in the shop, she didn't like it much, but what choice did she have? The demon brat had connections with owner, and many of parlour's patrons.

Ignoring the excessively pierced and tattooed woman sitting at the counter, the Blond bypassed the cracked wooden door behind the graphically coloured counter, and then navigated through a few short hallways until he reached another doorway, this one leading into an office, where after knocking and being allowed entry, he sat in front of a grizzled, pot bellied man of around the age of 60.

The man, currently smoking, blew out a stream of smoke before addressing the blond sitting in the surprisingly lavish seat in front of his desk, "You're late, I began to worry you wouldn't make it, Naruto."

The now identified Naruto blankly stared at the man, "You? Worry about me? That's new, but I guess I can understand, no one wants to lose an essential asset do they? Actually forget that, I can count a few people; it's quite ironic that you're one of them."

"Hehehe, you're still bitter about that whole selling you off to the gang business? It was our best option, and you dispatched them splendidly." The man intoned with a lazy grin, one that caused Naruto to frown slightly and comment, "Torture, interrogation and acting the victim wasn't part of the deal, you led me to believe it was a quick hack and slash job, not an infiltration."

"And yet you managed, without me even having to brief you on the exact details, you being in the dark simply made things more believable."

"To hell with that, you're lucky I remembered you were monitoring them and their benefactor, else they would've been dead the moment they touched me."

"Just let it go, everything worked out, let the distant past stay in the distant past."

"It happened yesterday."

"Just like I said, distant past, now, ready for your next job?" The man remarked with his thick mischievous tone.

"You still have more? You're driving me like a slave, but fine, whatever, I need the cash anyway, and it's better than sitting in that damn academy." The Blond grumbled.

"You shouldn't miss out on too much, else you'll be left behind as your peers advance, and that wouldn't do well for your career, now would it?"

"Enough chit-chat about me, I have other requests to pick up, you're not the only one hiring you know."

"Ah yes, indeed, well, I can't except you to be completely loyal to only me, now can I?" The blond let his frown drop into something reminiscent of a smirk as the man continued, "No matter, it's a simple one this time, no tricks, some of my girls have been giving me complaints about a rowdy client, Isako Morimaru, I've given him a few warnings, but I can't seem to get the message across, I've already lost two girls because of him, make him disappear."

"That's quite a job," Naruto sighed, "So you want a full clear?"

"Yes, that would be preferable, though if things don't work out, cut off the loose ends, just don't implicate yourself, or me for that matter."

"Sure, consider it done." Grunted Naruto as he stood up and stretched his tense limbs casually, "I'll expect the payment to arrive by tomorrow," with the man's nod, Naruto left the office, and the tattoo parlour; he had other requests to pick up before nightfall.

* * *

The man stumbled back home, his key jiggling through the locked door, forcing it to swing open with a final thrust and turn. He wasn't as drunk or happy as he should have been, he had a rough day, and his usual vices brought no pleasure. It was like any other night; he went to the bar, got shitfaced, then found himself a cute little thing and indulged in some 'fun'.

Today was... different, the booze was sour, dry even, the company shallow and dull, and the women either far too puffed up and artificial, or just plain ugly, it was like the universe conspired against him.

Maybe he was simply bored? It wasn't the most invigorating of lifestyles, he mused as he shakily strolled through the dark apartment, careful to avoid any of the haphazardly placed obstacles of his messy rooms, pity he never noticed the shine in the darkness.

It was a quick affair, the thin wire stretched at the entrance of the man's bedroom caused him to have a sudden meeting with the dumbbell placed suspiciously near the doorway, the impact was not fatal but a lazy trickle of blood covered the dark iron as the man released an unconscious groan.

The shadow only had a few moments before Isako awoke from the shock of the fall.

With surprising strength, the proportionally smaller shadow dragged the man towards the open balcony and pivoted him off the rail.

The fall from the 6th floor headfirst into hard earth ended with a crack, thump and splatter of blood, Isako's death was swift, efficient and best of all, easily explainable.

It was a suicide.

Bottles were scattered all around the room, some empty, others on the cusp of it, the place had a putrid smell to it, easily attributed to the dirty laundry piled on the coach and the mountain of dishes filling the sink, the small office found to the left of the bedroom was filled with paperwork, complaints, taxes, bills, the amount was staggering.

Even more, there was no evidence of struggle, although an unusual crack was to be noticed at the entrance of the bedroom, it was promptly disregarded as unrelated. Attempts were made to find eyewitnesses, but no one saw the actual fall, as it happened around 2AM, a time when the streets were sparsely populated and most were asleep. Those who saw the man that day noted his bad mood and aggravation, from there an easy conclusion was made, the evidence painted a clear image.

How convenient.

The next morning, as a ten year old blond walked the slowly filling streets of Konoha, he had to make a small detour, a segment of the path leading to the academy was blocked off, it was a merely a side street so no major traffic had formed, but the apparent blockage had created quite a crowd.

Naruto never liked crowds, so he avoided the gawkers and simply took the longer route, he might be a few minutes late, but what could he do, a citizens death was being investigated, and that took priority over convenience.

A small smile displaced his frown, as he mused in a mock tone internally.

' _Should have broken his neck at the foot of the stairs.'_


	2. Chapter 2

He sat in the final row, towards the right of the classroom, he wasn't exactly in the corner, but he wasn't close to the short stairway connected to each row, his seat was nice and comfortable between Sasuke Uchiha and Sakura Haruno, the destined lovers.

Well, that was what Sakura would have everyone believe, and Ino, and nearly every other girl in the classroom. Sasuke was quite popular with the girls; his dark and mysterious aurora just had the females flocking like flies in heat.

And despite such circumstances, the raven haired Uchiha clan heir ignored them, completely and utterly, he wasn't cruel in his rebuttals, but he dismissed any attempt at getting a 'date' or even a 'hangout' out of him.

Naruto didn't see the point in it, when such diverse and, in a sense, alluring choices were available, why not make use of them? But no one really cared about what he thought; he was the class clown after all, the 'dead last'.

"So how about it Sakura? 15 minutes, if you're not satisfied you can leave, just give me that much, pleeeaaaase!" his shrill voice pleaded at the pink haired girl trying her best to ignore him.

"Naruto, you stupid childish idiot, how many times have I told you, I will never, I repeat, never go out on a date with you! Do you hear me? NEVER! I HOPE YOU JUST SHUT UP AND DIE ALREADY!" she shouted angrily, her cheeks reddening and eyes blazing.

She was harsher than usual today, less violent, but harsher; she must be close to her limit, _'I wonder how much it would take to break her,'_

It was a simple experiment, to give the persona he was using at the academy some realism he added some minor supporting details, nothing major, but enough to make the act believable. His 'crush' on Sakura was one of such things; other examples would be his orange jumpsuit, constant pranks, love of all things ramen, and absolutely terrible performance in the shinobi arts.

As the girl huffed to herself, he carefully moulded his face into an expression of sorrow, one noticed by the surrounding classmates, before quickly replacing it with a beaming smile and happily proclaiming, "Someday you'll change your mind Sakura! Someday you will understand the true greatness you're missing out on!

Her eyes narrow dangerously, a likely sign she would attack him, however, surprisingly she sighed deeply, left her seat and walked away towards the room's exit, without any sort of comment. Another unusual behaviour, things were changing apparently, maybe he should have been a bit more insistent?

"When will you give it up? It's getting sad, really."

"No one wants to hear your opinion duck-butt."

"What did you just call me dead-last?"

"Hmm, did you say something Sasuke? I was busy not listening to you, please, repeat."

Sasuke wasn't quite as violent as Sakura, he nursed grudges and released them during spars, burying his aggression and saving it for later channelling as if he was honing its sharpness and impact. It was quite unhealthy, but what did Naruto care if the kid went psycho like his brother and decided to kill a clan, hell, if Sasuke asked nicely he might help out.

"Hmph, you're lucky we're done sparing for today, else I'd have to humiliate you double." The Uchiha arrogantly remarked.

Sometimes he considered actually fighting the raven-head for real, sometimes, but never in a serious frame of mind. Losing his cover early would be very detrimental; it was enough that the Hokage suspected his unusual visits to his many friends (clients) around the village.

"Oh? Is that so, how about we give it a go, right now, come on, you a chicken or something? Afraid I might pluck out one of those precious little eyes of yours?" He goaded.

Naruto watched as the Uchiha's fist clenched and unclenched momentarily before the heir responded, "You know as well as I do I can't do that, I have no reason to get implicated in your deliberations to break every rule possible, if you want to pick a fight, summon a bunshin and knock yourself out, Oh wait, I forgot, you can't."

The superior smirk he flashed before also standing up and passing by him to go have lunch outside received an immediate response, "Someday I'll show you Sasuke," it was mumbled, but the boy in question heard the remark loud and clear, his smirk only widened.

The charade really grated on his nerves, but he had to do it, else it'd spell a lot of trouble for him.

Oh well, that was enough pathetic-ness for today, he was hungry.

As he passed by the rows occupied by various students he could hear the joking murmurs and giggles, it was the usual garbage, people mocking him for being such a clingy and annoying brat.

Really, who knew 4 years of acting could give him such a fantastic rep. For a ten year old, he was quite disliked, and not only by his classmates for his less than admirable actions, the entire village had a grudge against him.

Apparently being the Kyuubi's jinchuriki was not cool. Who knew?

Oh well, the struggles of life and all. Since his role was done for the day, he might as well skip out on the remaining history lessons, no reason to waste more time, plus he had that annoying little job he had to prepare for and get done.

* * *

The blond was not amused, but his charges sure as hell were.

He thought the job would be simple, sit around with some kids, act as a cheap but reliable bodyguard for 5 hours; a standard odd job. He didn't get the details until much, much later.

The job was provided by one of the Land of fire's biggest crime bosses. Why did he have to always associate with such troublesome people?

The first hour was annoying but ordinary, the two children, Hina and Ryu, each around the age of 7, joked around about how he was nothing more than a regular kid that wouldn't stand a chance against an enemy shinobi or even a grown man, it didn't help that he was a bit shorter than Ryu. He took things in stride, making use of his friendly persona to join in on their fun; thankfully they eventually got bored and went on to doing their own thing.

Things got a little interesting in the second hour, when the first attack came. He wasn't part of the main defending force, so he didn't concern himself with getting involved in the battle; but when things settled down he went to see how the other bodyguards fared. With an unnoticeable flick a slight gleam around the entrance seemed to curve smoothly, allowing Naruto to open the heavy oaken doors to the room safely. Creating a small gap to peak his head out, he found the men dragging away three bodies, two of which were mob members.

Well that was a bad sign; they only had 10 people defending the perimeter, well, 8 people now.

Originally, his client, Yami (weird name right?), had planned on relying only on his own escort of mob members to defend his niece and nephew, he had a few low level shinobi among them apparently.

The high-level missing ninja that were in his employ were kept close to person as to properly defend him from any real threats, as well as to prevent Konoha from getting the full gist of what was going on and messing around with the dealings. After all, their position was within the village itself; a small warehouse that was refitted as a safehouse, meaning, if any high level shinobi were present, Konoha would eventually notice the foreign signatures even if suppression seals were used.

Which is where he played into this whole thing, one of his clients, Doro, had a good relationship with the crime lord, so when the topic of defence came into question, Naruto was immediately recommended as an untraceable, skilled, freelance shinobi. And best of all? He was cheap, so Yami got quite the good deal out of using him as an extra buffer of defence in case things went south, like they were about to.

The men surrounding the room gave him a hard glare for opening the door and possibly comprising the two children, he was all too happy to immediately shut them as things were about to go down. He quickly sealed the heavy doors, and adjusted the defences. He then padded his clothing methodically, loosening specific pockets while readying himself for battle. The enemy was smart, but not careful, the mob members may have not noticed, but he did, the unmistakable flash of steel, the suppressed sound of footsteps and the smell of human sweat and blood were glaringly obvious.

A sudden _woosh_ of kunai was heard with the unmistakable thumps of the black daggers hitting their targets. Shouting ensued from the defending party, but it was for naught, the enemy was silent and efficient, knowledgeable about their targets and prepared with all counter measures.

The clash of steel rang from the spacious hallway/room outside the children's position, with the risk obvious, Naruto turned towards the two, ready to usher them into the special closet composed of an insulator- iron casing to provide proper protection against most reasonable threats.

"Get into the closet." His tone was clipped as he walked towards the end of the room and entered the ridged key into the closed door, the acted out mirth dispersing from his features, leaving his eyes a cold calculating icy blue.

The two were raised in such an environment, where danger and bodyguards were common, so they tolerated the threat better than any normal 7 year old civilian, however the signs of fear were obvious if one knew where to look.

As they rushed into the closet, Hina called out to him, "Come with us, I'm sure it'll be okay, there's no way uncle's men will lose, and you can protect us better in here, yeah, you don't have to be out here, so come in, it's safer in here."

Here pleading tone was laced with pity, she feared he would die, how cute.

"I am your bodyguard, no more, no less... Your uncle's men are already dead."

With that final shocking (to the children) statement he shut the now obvious mechanical door of the closet, and made sure it was sealed.

The enemy was silent, either waiting for something or preparing for their entry.

The doors flew open with 3 masked shinobi jumping in while a noticeable ranged attacker provided support.

The three men never anticipated the slowly stretching wire that was being manipulated by Naruto's fingers. His hand suddenly forcefully clenched around several wires and pulled them down roughly.

The rush was abruptly cut short as the 3 men were sliced in half, their torso's sliding off their waists in a bloody mess, Naruto paid their death no mind; there were other enemies to eliminate. With burst of chakra he shot around the bodies narrowly dodging the shuriken that was meant to slice his jugular, allowing it to safely cut through his dyed black hair.

The masked individual did not wait for the blond to reach him, choosing to pull a tanto from the sheath on his back and meet the blond head-on.

Naruto flicked his left wrist before pulling a kunai to meet the masked man's slashes.

Kunai slid against and parried tanto for a few tense moments before Naruto suddenly replaced himself with a chair near the end of the room.

Both chair and man were engulfed in a localized high pressure explosion.

The negative pressure produced by the seal induced explosion caused a sudden inward localized pull, which shot the singed and burned enemy back into its centre and dispelled the summoned over-sized lizard that was hiding in the rooms rafters.

Before the attacker could even gain his bearings a chakra powered kunai shot through his mask and exploded midway through the man's head, the large amount of chakra within it causing the non conductive metal to grow unstable and erupt, Naruto had memorized the average time for such a reaction.

"I may have overdone it with that last one." The blond muttered to himself.

Before he went and let the kids out, he checked up on the other dead attackers. They were curiously dressed like anbu, except for the masks, which were plain white; he'd never seen something quite like it, though he wasn't exactly too knowledgeable on all existing organizations, he'd have to ask around later.

Once he removed the masks and any usable/ sellable gear, he burned all the bodies, better that than be implicated in something later on.

He couldn't hide the bloodstains, so he didn't bother, though he did make an attempt to move the various organs lying around after he bisected those 3 attackers.

The mob members were also moved to a different area, as he didn't want to scar the two children too much, that would hurt his relations with the crime lord, and he'd prefer to keep things at the very least civil, he didn't need a whole mob to be after him.

Once done, he let the children out, they were a bit pale, and looked fearful as they noticed the blood and the obvious lack of their uncle's men, proving Naruto's statement true, but they were safe and in a stable mental condition which was all that mattered. They also opted to stay within the closet for the rest of duration, albeit with the door ajar.

Naruto didn't mind, made them easier to defend.

He had another hour and a half before the job ended and he preferred not to risk failing in the final hurdle, so after slapping a few powerful chakra limiters on his major tenketsu points, he formed a crossed hand-seal while channeling as little chakra as possible.

Numerous puffs of smoke quickly appeared and dispersed around him, producing the now deceased mob members, although noticeably more ethereal and un-detailed. His skill with the bunshin, even on low chakra capacity, was less than admirable, but it would do the job.

The illusionary men spread around the area, the most detailed remaining within, while the less than realistic remained on the outside, taking positions previously occupied by the living.

 _'Well back to waiting, at least I got some action; maybe they'll send more next time? If there is a next time that is.'_


	3. Chapter 3

"You've done quite well young man." The elegant, bespectacled middle aged crime lord intoned warmly, a kind but mischievous smile on his face.

"Thank you sir, it was a pleasure doing business with you." The blond smiled respectfully, before shaking Yami's hand and leaving the room, briefcase in hand.

' _That's quite a nifty bonus he gave me, I'm sure this isn't the last time I'll be hearing from him, something I'm not too excited about, associating with the mob never ends well.'_ He thought to himself as he stuffed the briefcase into his jumpsuit, a small puff of white smoke indicating its successful storage.

As he exited the lavish hotel named the _Golden Road_ , he managed to catch the start of Konoha's early rush hour. If he wanted to, he could go for a lesson or two in the academy, it was still pretty early and he could likely sneak in during the recess.

Plus Iruka might be able to give some good pointers on the little mystery he'd recently come across.

He got the gist of it from that damned Doro, but he didn't know much more than the basics; it used to be part of Anbu, created around the period of the second shinobi world war, and was known to be a brutal organization that produced 'perfect' shinobi', i.e. emotionless tools that lived to perform orders. The inhumane and illegal training methodology eventually caused it to be disbanded, however rumours of its continued existence constantly surfaced.

It wasn't much, but it gave him some insight on what he was up against, and what would more than likely eventually come after him, but he needed more information.

He could ask one of the informants he knew, hell he was right by the tavern the 'chemist frequented, he probably knew a good deal on the organization if its operations were still centred in Konoha.

The blonds' pace slowed as his gaze was directed towards the imposing stone tavern to his left. It didn't have a displayed name, and seemed to only be frequented by a specific clientele – an invitation based system being in place to limit access. The 'chemist was a well known frequenter of the tavern, his status as an informer in Konoha gave him such access as well as other similar perks, after all, he knew just about everything going on within village walls. His additional expertise in making and supplying some of the deadliest and rarest potions and poisons in the Elemental Nations just added to his 'fame' and status amongst the backdoor community, meaning he always had some sort of task or job in mind to satisfy the influx of clients he had.

His face crinkled a tad.

He didn't want to associate himself with the 'chemist owing that maniac a favour would be dreadful; he wouldn't accept any cash from the blond, there was no way the man would waste such a golden opportunity. He'd ask for him to do a job, and the last time he agreed to such a thing, he almost ended up mutated after being drugged and exposed to impossibly high levels of radiation. The guy didn't just have a few screws loose in his head, but a dangerous amount of nails shoved where there should be screws, if that made any sort of sense.

No, he'd stick with asking Iruka, he should know this sort of thing right?

* * *

"What are you up to this time? Is this another one of your pranks?"

"No sensei, I swear! I just heard a couple of old guys talking about it, so I got curious and asked them, 'cause you know how much I like Anbu right? But they just laughed and told me I was too young and stuff, and I can't go to the library 'cause the librarian is mean, so I thought, 'who can I ask?', and you were the first person who came to mind!" the blond mumbled erratically in response to his teacher's accusative tone.

He was quite lucky to get to speak so... casually with the man, the lunch-break had just started and Iruka hadn't caught onto his absence from the academy, as he had no lessons with the blond earlier in the day. If he knew Naruto skipped, things would've gone very, very differently. Iruka didn't take to kindly to Naruto ignoring his duties as a shinobi in training.

Although still a bit suspicious, Iruka pondered Naruto's unusual request, "Anbu with blank white masks? It's been a while since I've last heard of them, the Foundation, or Root as it was commonly called hasn't been in official operation for decades." The man nodded and seemed to consider the subject carefully, as if choosing his words; Naruto did not fail to notice Iruka's discomfort. "It used to be a sub-division of Anbu in the past, but was disbanded some time after the second shinobi world war, as the specific skill-set and operations carried out by Root were no longer required by the village. Originally, they were formed by the Nidaime Hokage, but were more of a task force of sorts, and some argue a whole different organization, but I don't think you're too interested in such intricacies are you? Anyhow, in official operation Danzo Shimura, one of the Sandaime's current councillors was the active leader, and despite no longer leading Root, he still maintains control over current Chunin and Jonin affairs, even after leaving active duty due to heavy injuries sustained in the past, he's quite a dedicated man."

Naruto was silent for a moment; a bit lost in thought, however once he noticed that Iruka was waiting for some input from him, he was sure to give a beaming grin and a thumbs' up, "Thanks Iruka-sensei! I didn't think there was so much stuff about them, you should involve them in lessons more often, and maybe I'll stop falling asleep then!"

A small chuckle and slap to the back of Naruto's head was Iruka's friendly response.

The blond watched the scarred man as he walked away, actually quite annoyed at the shortened and misleading account.

' _Well that was a quite useless, and censored, oh well, I shouldn't have expected any juicy details, still, I did get some of what I was looking for. Danzo Shimura, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of having a conversation with him, but from what I've seen, the guy looks obtrusively suspicious and manipulative, I wonder if he'll fetch me for a little chat at some point?'_

Cracking his neck in a few blunt pops, the blond moved to an open window and silently left the academy grounds. Although this was generally sufficient general information, he needed more, and he was not excited about his meeting the with 'chemist to get it, it was bound to be a headache, plus, the fact that he wasted so much time speaking with Iruka instead of accepting his fate directly really grated on his nerves.

* * *

He knocked twice, the oaken door absorbing the impact of his small fists and producing an open panel in response.

"Code?"

"Who the fuck needs names?"

"Damn right."

The panel quickly slid shut and various locks were heard clicking in quick and mechanical succession as the door opened to allow Naruto entrance.

The tavern was smoky and dim, like any stereotypical shady hideout for shady individuals. The faces he saw were mostly familiar, but none looked very friendly at the moment, more than likely due to the high pitched voice permeating the air and causing mutters laced with death threats and creative cruses.

" _What slithers and slides!_

 _What screams and cries!_

 _What begs and fights!_

 _What suffers and dies!_

 _A shinobi's filthy insides!_

 _What- "_

Naruto pulled up a seat, being sure to roughly pull it across the stone flooring to cut through his informers annoying little song.

"You should really learn something new, that little tune is getting a bit droll." Naruto intoned in mock advice as he sat down in front of the singing 'chemist.

"Oh my cold friend! Drollness is not what I intent, yet it seems that you have an unlucky trend, always arriving at this songs bitter end, quite normal with how often your time here you spend."

Tilting his head in curiously Naruto looked around to gauge everyone's reaction, noting the head shakes and eye rolls "Is it just me, or are you trying to rhyme your statements, badly?"

"Have you not heard? This is the activity for this week I have preferred; don't you agree it's adequately absurd?"

"It seems more of a hindrance than anything, but whatever, I need information on an organization I've taken interest in."

The 'chemists differently coloured eyes flashed knowingly as he went from amiable to business-like, or as business-like as a jester in a lab coat could look.

"Oh such a curiosity, asking for information from me? A monstrosity? Such a deal! One could even happily squeal, follow me cold friend, and let me information for services lend!"

Naruto rubbed his eyes as he followed the skipping jester into one of the private booths, the man's short, neat neon-like green and purple hair acting as beacon in the foggy sea of smoke surrounding him. The owner had a weird inclination to use such smoke as decoration, said it made the place feel 'authentic'.

Closing the door decorated with seals and completing the internal sound proofing series-seal within the lavish booth, Naruto sat on one of the heavy plush seats facing the 'chemist's own.

"So , who is this organization of which you want told?" The man sang, his calculating eyes missing the mirth in his voice.

Naruto cleared his throat and explained simply, "You've likely heard of my encounter with Root," the man snickered, "I'm sure this won't be my last conflict, I want to know a few things before I get in too deep; I'll need current active members and their covers, bases of operation and safe houses, recent missions, and the basics on how involved they are in current village affairs, political and economical as well as military-wise."

The 'chemist pulled a finger to his lips and tapped thoughtfully, a childish expression on his face, "Root, Root, do you not know that such wants are to death and disappearance the route?"

"That never stopped you."

"Of course not, who of such a thing could've thought? I simply warn you my friend, Caution I recommend."

"Don't worry about me, simply get everything I need on paper while I do whatever insane task you've already got planned."

The jester produced a wide and menacing grin, "Oh yes, the price, I believe I have a task that shall suffice, it is neither insane nor plain, merely a simple chain, a chain of what? Murder and blood-stain."

Naruto raised an eyebrow and cracked his right wrist, a bit irritated with the jester's vagueness, "I'll need a bit more than that to understand what you want of me."

The coated jester simply shook his head and produced a photograph of a family, one of seeming wealth and obvious value for tradition. On the photograph one could see the likely father and mother, as well as the presumably three sons and one daughter. Bright red fan-esque images could be seen drawn on the males of the family, with scribbles near the photographs' edge seemingly providing an address.

"The task is simple, yet considerably fickle, you must eliminate the red faced, with much haste, I give you 4:44 hours to kill the fan's heirs, but be hidden, and leave your true targets unbidden, but remember the most vital, rip out their souls be spiteful, and be sure to take an eyeful but like a mist spiteful, to he who is rightful."

Naruto blankly stared at the man's grinning face, deciphering the obvious attempt to make his mission as difficult as possible.

"I presume the mother and daughter are to remain generally unharmed?"

The man hummed happily and mouthed _tick tock,_ apparently done with the conversation as he pulled out a thick large tome of a notebook and began scribbling.

Naruto sighed in feigned exasperation for the benefit of his current critical persona and left the room briskly but casually while rubbing his orange-dyed hair and planning for the sensitive task ahead.

* * *

Sundown was quickly approaching, bathing Konoha in a pink tinge and steadily allowing shadows to grow and dark corners to creep larger. A hooded masked individual of short-average stature would periodically jump from such shadows into tight passes and hidden alley-ways to navigate his way to his target, remaining invisible to both the common and uncommon eye while noting possible escape routes for later use.

Eventually the masked individual arrived near the specified location, 3:50 hours remained.

Not willing to risk being sighted, the individual, instead of entering the household, chose to enter that of the neighbours, a modest but nonetheless lavish and traditional summer-home that shared a fenced wall with that of the Uchiwa, the family/clan he was contracted to... deal with.

Being sure to leave no obvious signs of him breaking into the small summer-home, the individual dropped a light black tag of standard size in the living room before he swiftly bypassed the fence after being sure that the basic security detail was not focused on the area. Past the fence a silent wall-run allowed him entry into the second story of the building.

The window he went through opened into a regularly occupied bedroom filled with rich female clothing and various exotic paintings, the occupant as detected was not currently present, however sounds of activity in a nearby room indicated some person(s) being nearby.

After giving the room a sweeping glance a yellow tag was stuck to the underside of the bed placed in the room's centre before the individual cautiously approached the sounds of activity.

Being sure to note his location, the individual deftly stalked through the spacious hallway, choosing to stick to sides in order to avoid any unnecessary and alarming noise. Passing two rooms, the source of the sound eventually became apparent, it being gaudy singing in addition to the easily noticeable _woosh_ of water coming from the supposed bathroom.

Quick use of a tension wench and pick unlocked the door with a soft click. The hinges being well oiled the door did not creak, however the occupant noticed the sudden intrusion.

"Oh come on, not again, I thought I locked the door this time! Is it that difficult to have some privacy in this family? I'll be done in a minute, and don't you try to mess with me, I know it's you Kizaro, don't think I haven't caught on to your little tricks and pranks!"

The man guffawed in obvious amusement, prepared to expose and probably humiliate his younger brother, however he did not expect the cold steel that sliced his jugular. A few drops of blood were allowed to mix with the running water of the shower, before the body suddenly went up in smoke, leaving the room relatively clean with no signs of conflict.

The hooded individual switched off the running water and formed the Ram hand-seal, creating a fully dressed copy of the man, which promptly left the room and headed towards the stairs. For a few minutes the individual monitored the clone's signature as it exchanged pleasantries with the guards and left the estate.

He now had 3:30 hours.

Minimizing his chakra output and generating a miniature pulse the hooded individual detected the remaining presences within the building. His next target was above.

Maintaining a tactic of cautious and soundless motion, the individual climbed up the stairs with focus on avoiding the centre and any creaks while listening for any possible movement.

The barely audible sound of slippers could be heard touching on the carpeted stairway as a young woman around the age of 16 came into view, turning with the corridor of the second story towards the room that served as the individuals entry way.

The individual watched the girl enter her room from his position on the ceiling, where he lay flat and monitored the girl's next move.

As she seemed satisfied to remain where she was, the individual carefully moved to the next level, now generating pulses every 5 seconds to get a clear image of any approaches or movement.

Noting that his chosen target had not moved from the original position detected, the hooded individual deliberately approached the closed door separating him from his next target.

Finding it unlocked, in rapid motion he entered the room and closed the door without making much audible noise.

His target was laying asleep in the soft feather-bed placed near the right corner of the room.

Approaching the target, the individual noted a soft wheezing sound coming off the sleeping young man as well as rosy tint detailing his face. Some form of sickness was upon the man, likely a strain of the flu.

Pulling out a syringe, the hooded individual injected the sleeping man with a powerful and deadly toxin. For the next minute or so the individual watched over the dying man with the calm and apathetic gaze of an experienced assassin before pulling out a moderately large scroll and sealing the now still body, the man having just released his final breath.

Storing the used scroll, the individual pulled a second, smaller variant adorned with a blue stripe. In a smooth pull, the scroll was unfurled, releasing the well preserved corpse of a young man in a poof.

Although not of direct relation, the build of the preserved corpse was similar to that of the target, thus easing the process of disguising it. A complex seal was then attached to the corpse's forehead, and a measure chakra was channelled into it, with the individual being sure to properly visualize the target and mould his features in form of a constructed illusion projected onto the corpse.

Another small yellow tag was stuck to the underside of the sick bed.

Exiting the room, the individual noted that he now had 3:15 hours and 3 targets. 1 of which was not currently present within the household, the father.

He was likely returning from work, or with the mother, that would complicate things, but he'd deal with it once the last target was eliminated and replaced.

Silently moving towards a window opening towards a side garden, the man noted the location of his next target.

Seamlessly henging into a small grey mouse, the individual ran down a nearby roof connected to the lavish household and quickly reached the carved wooden pillar holding it up.

Being sure to avoid being noticed by the young identifiable Kizaro, the mouse carefully jumped into a thick patch of tulips and then traversed the serene garden, nearing the heir's location at its centre.

The reading Kizaro did not pay attention to the small figure approaching his position, nor did the rotating guards who slowly moved away towards the household's entrance.

The mouse had 3 minutes at most; this had to be done quickly.

A sudden poof of smoke alerted Kizaro to the figure behind him; however before he could signal the nearby guards a gloved hand clamped down on his mouth while a shining senbon pricked the back of his neck. In a matter of 10 seconds the last male heir was dead, and a poof of smoke with the telltale sound of rolling paper was heard as the body was sealed.

The hooded individual was sure to quickly form the ram seal to create a basic clone to replace the dead Kizaro, followed by deft henge into the skittering grey mouse he was seconds prior.

The guards did not seem to note anything amiss, good; he needed to keep a low profile for as long as possible, it was too early to be caught.

The small mouse invisibly made its way back into the mansion-like household and entered through the slightly ajar sliding door connecting the small garden to a comfortable dining area. From there, the grey creature directed the clone to venture to the village centre, with excuse of returning and borrowing some specific documents and texts while it prepared for the final target, and an effective escape route, doing so by exploring the household and gaining a better understanding of the floor plan while studying guard rotations and presence; however time was quickly running out, 2 hours remained.

In a stroke of luck the father soon returned in company of his wife, after a redundant discussion and apparent argument, the man then moved towards the study where the unhenged individual stood waiting. The door rattled momentarily then clicked as the man unlocked it with the key on his person; the light from the hallway seeped into the room but failed to illuminate the heavy darkness shrouding it.

Out of habit, the man closed the door before actually flicking the interior light switch. That was a mistake.

As the door slid shut a short sword ripped through the man's torso, producing an audible thud and undeniably loud shout of pain as the man's blood pooled at the doors edge. His screams soon attracted attention; the assassin's successive pulses informed him of the nearing guards and the descending heiress, she was now near the second story staircase. With such knowledge he proceeded to activate the tags he placed earlier.

The upper story was primed to collapse by detonation, and with it most of the household, preventing authorities from properly investigating the scene (what a pity). The individual quickly decapitated the father, and effortlessly sealed his head before leaving the room in obvious acted escape.

He could hear the upper rooms collapse into the office with a deafening blast as an armoured guard blocked his path, swiftly moving towards him with a raised sword and voice, however the explosion unbalanced the decorated bodyguard, momentarily exposing a small gap between his arm and armpit.

The assassin easily dodged the man's unbalanced rush and forcefully buried a gleaming kunai into the space.

It was not immediately lethal but had enough impact to force the guard to drop his katana in agony and fall to his knees, allowing the hooded assassin to continue his brisk stride. The only distinct feature identifying him being the gleam of a half hidden headband; the unmistakable shape of slanted lines appearing to the guard before he succumbed to his injuries and fell into a growing puddle of his own blood.

The hooded assassin was met by two other guards as he reached the household's entrance hall, one escorting the heiress while the other seemed on his way to assist his now dying comrade. Without hesitation a chakra fused kunai destroyed the approaching guard's knee while another much weaker and slower projectile was sent towards the heiress. The defending guard _miraculously_ parried the thrown weapon, not noting its simplistic but implicatory purpose as all focus went towards defending the heiress.

Attempting to seize a quick victory the guard continued by directly attacking the individual, skilfully stabbing and slicing at the assassin to end his life. Although skilled, the swordsman was out of practise and as a result was too slow to pose much a threat, however the assassin played along, appearing to genuinely struggle against the man with close dodges. Eventually an opening in the swordsman's attack had the assassin use a kunai dispensed from his sleeve to parry the blade, and twist it away from the panting guard.

The assassin then proceeded to brutally hit the man's cranium with the ring end of the kunai, and quickly stalk towards the frozen heiress, the disarmed swordsman's flailing attempts to stop him only managing to pull off his hood and display his glinting Kiri headband and brown eyes in the brightening household as flames from the explosion began their deadly spread.

Narrowing his eyes the man titled his head as he seemed to consider his options; he knew he was running out of time, Anbu would be here soon, he needed to escape, quickly. The kunai in his hand slammed into the swordsman clutch on his hood before being solidly thrown to pierce the heiress's thigh, burying itself to the hilt amidst the girl's miserable screams.

The mother had already escaped while the disarmed guard was still in condition to carry the heiress to safety, the conditions were not broken.

Pulling up his hood the individual proceeded to speedily exit the burning building and take a long winded route towards the clan compound sector, he primed his last tag before leaving. He had 1:40 hours; that was more than enough time.

* * *

The early sunrise was met with the grimness of a slowly unfolding display of carnage. The scene was discovered minutes before the light of the new day touched upon it, but it was long awaiting the shinobi.

Anbu and T/I agents silently studied the area while the Hokage observed, his cold features in distinct contrast with his grandfatherly image.

A glowing black tag releasing a distinct signature was previously found in vicinity of last night's attack; its purpose was to lead them to its red twin in an unpleasant reunion.

The tag was incorporated in the _artistic_ red writing displayed on the symbolically decorated walls surrounding the clan-heads household and Uchiha Sasuke's residence.

 _ **You missed a few Konohagakure, here are some eyes, try to be more insightful from now on**_

Below the mocking words, a tombstone could be seen with the hastily inscribed names of the Uchiwa family and carved warped rendition of the Uchiha fan-symbol.

A silver bowl of coal black eyeballs floating in blood was the physical tribute.

' _A twisted funeral for flies and killers.'_


	4. Chapter 4

The door to the apartment slid shut with a creek, followed by the telltale clicks of several locks. It was around 9AM, the blond had apparently returned home after waking up earlier for breakfast in his favourite Ramen stand; presumably starting his weekend on a positive note.

He strolled through a short entry hall that lead into an open living room, lit by the morning sun it displayed a neat but slightly bare room; although not suspiciously plain, it had a certain hollowness to it, perhaps the lack of defining features was the issue, no photographs, no small personal trophies, simply a few old pieces of furniture and some striped rugs with a small bookshelf pushed against the wall between two closed doors.

One lead to the bedroom, while the other lead to the bathroom; a third to the Blonds' left lead to the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen he strolled towards a storage cabinet placed in the room's corner, it was rather large, and of sound although dilapidated build, with cleaning supplies, miscellaneous rags-tools and a variety of paints and brushes filling its interior. An ordinary glance would see nothing amiss, however upon closer inspection, the edges of the cabinet's left panel looked to be unusually worn, with the panel itself minutely out of alignment.

Naruto easily pushed the panel backwards, causing it to display well oiled hinges attached to an opening in the wall. The space within was tight, forcing the blond to momentarily crawl through before he could enter the _modified_ apartment adjacent to his own; a slight glow accompanied his crawl as he passed several complex carvings.

The crawl-space opened into a reconstructed combination of bathroom and kitchen. Several shelves with various bottles and pastes lined the walls, while the now off-white bath tub and sinks were filled with substances in different physical states; one apparent chemical was heavily bubbling and as a result saturating the room with misting steam that clouded the disproportionally sized mirrors found around the cluttered work area.

Amongst such additions, notes both on paper and drawn on surfaces could be found everywhere, acting as both labels and supporting material for future experiments, or theoretical as well as studied applications.

He ignored the impromptu lab and moved towards a doorway to his left, opening it he was met with a rather large room filled with any and all clothing he had collected to effectively complete his _jobs_.

The room was oval in shape and had a colourful assortment of apparel filling nearly every space from walls to ceiling; the only free area was the centre, where a small stool, a sink with basic pastes/mixtures, a mirror and a small lamp sat.

Sitting down, the blond flicked a switch on the lamp and shone a clear light onto his face, after a quick inspection he was assured that his henge did not have any implicatory discrepancies.

Forming a quick ram hand-seal, his form exploded into smoke that quickly dissipated to reveal a hooded individual with purposefully half-hidden Kiri headband.

In routine-like motion, the individual began by removing his cloak, and untying his hair, allowing his now visible wavy brown locks to pool onto his broad shoulders.

A white rag was then wet, and used to clear the artificial pale complexion of the assassin, revealing a yellowish skin tone under the makeup. Brown eyes turned green as lenses were removed, and a minor but noticeable adjustment to the man's face occurred as two globs of cotton were spit out.

And then the second henge was released.

In the clearing smoke green eyes turned blue, while various chakra manifestations collapsed, with the man's bulk suddenly slithering off into smoke, and his pooling hair dissipating into black curls.

In mild irritation, the itchy wig and subsequent hairnet were pulled off, as a result allowing sharp blond spikes to shine through, this combined with the bright blue eyes and suddenly tan complexion looped into the original henge, only this time there was no rough illusion in place.

He found the precautions extremely bothersome; the layers upon layers of deception strung together with convenient alibis and calculated outcomes. There was never an end in sight, it all looped, in a boring but necessary cycle.

Admittedly it was entertaining yet simultaneously tiring; he could barely differentiate the act and the reality at this point. Was he some calculating con-artist this month? Or maybe an overly confident mercenary?

His wrists cracked as he rose from his seat, remaining dressed in the now oversized clothing he wore for his role as the Kiri assassin.

He wasn't a genius, nor was he some hard worker that invested hours into becoming a 'true' shinobi that lived by a ruthless mindset. His circumstances were rather unusual, improbable really. Anyone his age wasn't meant to act this way.

He picked up the cloak and hung it amongst several others.

Was his status the reason behind his unusually professional mentality? Or was there some other explanation, some other reason.

Chainmail slithered as he slid out of the dull black light-armour and threw it into the appropriate pile.

Was it a mutation, possibly genetic, maybe even artificial? It wasn't unusual for some shinobi to be moulded into weapons from birth or early developmental years, take Root for example, but the lack of seeming continuity in his circumstances eliminated that possibility.

He shoved his sandals into a cupboard with the number 42 spray painted onto it and started unwrapping the gauze surrounding his chest and the end's of his rather uncomfortably large pants.

His adjustment to his current lifestyle wasn't immediate however, it could even be said that his childhood was rather unfortunate.

The blond snorted as he carefully wrapped and compressed the gauze before throwing it into small drawer.

Once he was cognizant of the village's 'negative' opinion of him, he became rather infatuated with the practise of trying to prove himself as an individual and gain as much attention as possible. It was a bit naive, but he couldn't really fault himself for the attempt.

He folded the pants and placed them into a larger drawer.

Yet somewhere along the line, 'proving himself' went from loud declarations and pranks, to violent outbursts. Maybe it was him wanting to give the bigots avoiding him a reason to dislike him, a justification of sorts.

He hung the Kiri headband onto the wall, placing it amongst others of similar likeness.

That behaviour snowballed into hanging around the wrong crowd in the wrong places, making him well acquainted with the red-light district, the backstreets, and Konoha's understandably unsavoury population. The Hokage made an effort to change his mannerisms and inclination to hang around 'rough' crowds, but his actions never amounted to much, and Anbu couldn't be bothered or logically used to monitor him 24/7, so they eventually stopped, leaving him to his own devices, which included his current dangerous and very much illegal profession.

The Hokage however more than likely knew the majority of his activities and was carefully monitoring him, surely not the full extent, but nonetheless enough to be wary of him and his numerous acts. Knowing that, he prepared several, backup plans in case things got out of hand; whether he could actually successfully implement them was a different question entirely.

He was sorely lacking resources, specifically versatile jutsu, allies, and general freedom. But that would hopefully be rectified soon enough.

Exiting the stuffy room, the Blond navigated towards a small rest area where he carefully revealed a hasty on-body storage seal that he meticulously studied and cautiously adjusted. Satisfied with the matrix, the blond proceeded to channel the suitable level of chakra, and unseal yesterday's bounties, or what remained of them, immediately transferring them into secondary scrolls for later work. Finishing up, the Blond picked up a wrinkly orange jumpsuit lying on a couch and braced himself while he got dressed for the day, he had a lot of stuff to do; after all, tomorrow was his birthday!

He chuckled ponderously, one more year and he could graduate, a simultaneous blessing and curse, being an active shinobi would really mess up his schedule, oh well, he'd think of something.

Now, where did he leave the paint and customized fireworks?

* * *

The rising sun announced the arrival of a new, beautiful morning, one filled with hope, ambition and... Fireworks!

A sudden eruption of screeching rockets and flashing explosions lit the sky; colourful smoke intermingled with clouds in a beautiful display!

 **BOOM-POP-FIZZLE**

The groggy Konoha citizens who rushed to their windows received an eyeful as they, in intrigued anger, watched the explosion-display paint the sky, and cursed the bastard lighting fireworks at 5AM.

As annoying as it was, it was rather mesmerizing, the sky seemed to be filled with swirls of orange, red and green, sparkling and fading to be replaced with flashier explosions and bright lights appearing in colourful and interestingly organized patterns.

But that wasn't the main attraction; it was simply the lead in, an opening ceremony of sorts.

As some looked towards, or approached the source of the fireworks, they found themselves staring at the unusually colourful Hokage Mountain.

Slathered across the prideful monument was an equally _colourful_ assortment of phrases, mocking each Kage's sculpted likeness separately, many gaped at the audacity while others momentarily chuckled or smiled in silent appreciation of the humour, before they got the full picture of course.

No Kage was spared, the variety of jokes and comments was astounding, for instance, the First was asked about his, 'Mastery of morning mokuton', while the Second was dubbed as a glorified plumber. The Third's face was creatively painted to look like a monkey wearing glasses with the nearby caption, 'Professor Poop flinger'. Even more, the admired and regaled Fourth was advised to have a shave, and visit a medical professional, as too much yellow was not normal in the process of 'flashing'.

Although a seemingly harmless joke, the context and connotation of the vandalism was not lost on the shinobi force, or many of the villagers. October 10th was once a celebration of the Fourth's triumphant sacrifice to defeat the Kyuubi, however after the occurrence of several disastrous incidents in the midst of celebrations, the tradition had died down to become a silent affair of respecting the past leader with small gifts and prayers instead of massive amusements and festivals. Naruto Uzumaki's role in the transition was muttered about, but rarely mentioned openly, as despite the unanimous agreement on his involvement, no actual evidence was ever found, nor could anyone actually link the, presumed idiot, to the transgressions.

How could they? There was always an alibi, an excuse saving him from blame. Moreover no one could truly expect Uzumaki to have, brutally tortured the more vocal villagers and criminals who made use of the event for their seedier activities, jinchuriki or not, he was a child, but not a child without his own secrets and friends.

' _A dangerous child playing a dangerous game. '_

The Third thought grimly as he watched the gathering Konoha citizens, smoke rings trailing out of his lit pipe.

His time was coming to an end and one year remained, the issue would rear its ugly head again, and the battle fought with paper and subtle actions would reach open ground, his sweeping of Uzumaki's actions under the rug would become impossible. The child's efforts at stealth were admirable, but he remained a child, with basic training and a skewed understanding of the world and how it functioned. Chakra was not a one-sided tool of profit, murder was not a chore to be chosen and bartered independently, a shinobi was not a free-handed tool, and Naruto would need to learn that soon, else he would be consumed by the other _observers;_ he needed to ensure the child's allegiance.

A game was being played, with each side vying for its own dominance, and at its centre was Naruto dancing to the meticulous plans of invisible hands, believing his fate to be his own. Power, strength, skill, intelligence, the child did not lack in any, but neither did he account for his achievements in each personally, and for the blonds' own sake, he hoped Naruto remained ignorant.

* * *

The usual brightness of Konoha dimmed under the overcast gloom of herded clouds. Fearing rain, a young woman rushed hurryingly towards her destination, an imposing plain stone tavern. Approaching the heavy oak door, she knocked timidly, as if afraid of what she was to encounter within.

The panel nonetheless slid, and a man questioned monotonously, "Code?"

Her mumble was barely audible, but the doorman seemed to accept the incomprehensible words allowing her entry as the locks clicked in mechanical succession.

A light haze filled the room, giving everything blurred edges and refracting the orange light shone by heavy lanterns around the room. The woman seemed to relax upon entry and glance around the room, looking at its several inhabitants while catching bits of casual conversation here and there.

Seemingly not finding her intent, she proceeded to walk further into the tavern, navigating around the organised chaos that encompassed the open room. Eventually, she came upon the private booths, with the entrance to one curiously ajar, a jewel encrusted shoe apparently keeping it open.

Steeling her resolve in the obvious clenching of fists and look of determination, she boldly but softly knocked on the painted door and entered the lavish booth, being sure to swiftly close the door behind her.

The man within didn't spare her much attention, being too focused on the word's being formed by his speeding hand. Not taking offense, the young woman sat in the parallel arm chair and quietly watched the man complete his work.

"How may I help you?" he asked without detaching his gaze from the lengthening text his hand scribbled.

"Ahhh-h yes, I was told that you sold certain, ah, services?" her timid and unsure voice chimed.

The man paused, his hunched back straightening on the plush chair, while his busy hands released the ink-pen and stilled in a closed clap in front of him, with his gleaming eyes boring into the fidgeting girl and cutting her apart, mind, body and soul, he portrayed a rather intimidating figure, despite his colourful jester-like apparel.

"I see you've expanded your repertoire Uzumaki, good, progress is always good." Acknowledged the man as his mismatched eyes fell on the concealed blond beneath the heavy disguise, ignoring the artificial persona and seeing through the enhanced attempt at deception, "But your voice is lacking tone, you alternate minutely, and you grind your jaw and constrict your throat making it seem forced, practise with a mirror, make it subtle".

The look of soft apprehension fell away to show a satisfied but attentive expression that adjusted the _girl's_ demeanour into one more reminiscent of the Uzumaki's, with the tensed shoulders relaxing, crossed arms moving to the armrests and unnecessarily raised eyebrows dropping to a standard level.

"It's an experiment, I've noticed it's rather effective to use the visage of a woman for certain tasks, and I lucked out with some cheap extensive items when I restocked. Anyhow, let's get to it, did you –"

The blonds' still warped voice was cut short as the eccentric man unexpectedly shot his right hand at his face. It wasn't a gesture of violence, but of silence, the singular raised pointer forcing the disguised blonds' stillness as he watched the man's left hand slide the document he was writing seconds ago towards him.

"Spare me your rash wants and farfetched plots at peeping, patience is a virtue I wholeheartedly respect, as you should know by now." The man's face twisted into a plainly hollow smile, "Before we get to it, I believe that today's special occasion should be celebrated; call it our anniversary, an equally beneficial gift for us both!"

Used to the man's sudden swings and jumps in mood, the blond shouldn't have been surprised, but the warning gaze the man fixed on him said that this was different. Cautiously he slid the paper off the shined table and scanned its contents, noting the 'chemists imperceptible nod.

His gaze did not change, be it his own fortitude or the assistance of the disguise, he remained stoically uninterested, but the content had shaken him, despite the cut-off and rather incomprehensible scribbled out sections, the message-purpose was not lost, even if it was never directly stated.

' _Your stock of blueprints were provided by –_-_-_- '_

' _The first mercenary was drugged to make your assimilation eas-_-_-_-_-'_

' _Yami contracted you previously for the elimination of –_-_-_-_-'_

' _The Hokage convinced them to take you as a –_-_-_-_-'_

' _The pale landlady is a retired Anbu operative, she reports –_-_-_-_- '_

' _Danzo has put in 50-_-_-_-_-'_

' _They will begin to actively attempt to gain your all-_-_-_-_; they are not willing to let their investment be hastily picked off, _-_-_ust no one, accept nothing, what you are has been calculated and planned, they _-_o_-_ everything.'_

The document shouldered into his thoughts and the reality nearly overwhelmed his fortitude, it was ironic, just 2 days ago he questioned his deposition, and here he was, getting the answers he sought, shouldn't he be satisfied? An enemy you know, technically, is better than one you do not. Right?

But then again, the point becomes moot when the whole system is against you.

His composure was cracking as random thoughts began invading his mind, his misplaced pride, sense of achievement, individuality, all unreasonably stupid fucki-

He took a deep breath, sinking into his seat as his lungs released their store of oxygen. He couldn't lose his head; it was dangerous enough to show weakness, even more to lose control with a demon to egg him on.

He needed to think rationally about this, as much as he wanted to just let the frustration wash over him, he wouldn't, he was not weak, and he would not be brought down.

Another deep breath, his ankle cracked as he shifted it, his pupil's dilated as he set them on the waiting informer.

This was a premeditated decision, the 'Chemist never did anything out of the kindness of his heart, there was something to be gained out of providing him this certainly limited but simultaneously reasonably classified information, but was it personal gain? Or was he hired?

He needed to tread carefully, now more than ever, even if what the document provided was falsehood, someone was more than likely monitoring his progress, and seeking his power, cliché as it may be.

Pity he couldn't actually access it.

"Now now, I understand it's rather surprising, but don't go gallivanting with it, keep it close and cherish my little gift Naruto, you won't be getting many more."

And so the conversation ended, the man stood up and left, leaving behind the inconspicuous yet bizarre jewelled shoe. Naruto should have questioned him, should have squeezed something more concrete, but he hesitated, could he even? It was rather obvious something was going on, the wording, the now burning paper he was doing his best to ignore, and the general caution exuded by the situation, he was way over his head, but when did that ever stop him?

His fingers rubbed at his forehead as he took another deep breath, this was getting annoying, he couldn't get shaken up like he did, confidence was key, he was Naruto Fucking Uzumaki, the only thing keeping the embodiment of Malice from going on a rage induced natural disaster fun fest. Bracing himself, he adjusted his posture and facial expression, adding a bit of apprehension and guilt; it wouldn't do if his prim and proper lady didn't find this activity, disgruntling.

After all, she was daughter the Konoha Merchant guild's president, keeping up with her social status was important, otherwise, who knows what an observer may think if she were to be seen in such an undignified place.

Indeed, what would they think? She pondered, her eyes glimmering momentarily as she carefully shut the booth's door behind her and carefully strolled towards the entrance, no physical indication of an exchange or meeting on her; presumably.

* * *

As prim and proper as she may have been known to be, it was also common knowledge that the President's daughter liked living on the wild side, when she get away with it at least, so it did not come as a surprise when she was discovered trying to sneak into her room rather, loudly, and unsuccessfully. You'd think she'd learn after her many adventures; heels and dresses aren't good apparel for climbing into windows, or anything for that matter.

The result of her discovery was also standard, a harsh lecture by her protective father, pitying looks and giggles from the maids milling around the household, and a lengthy period of house arrest, or more specifically room arrest, where she would stay and, _'ponder how dangerous her actions were.'_

Actions that were of course not defined but arbitrarily considered as dangerous, she obviously complained, but, father's word was law.

It was rather fortunate that the original, president's daughter also followed this law, even more fortunate that she had been on the detestably boring _house arrest_ for the last few days, and had been feeling rather feverish and ill throughout them. She had attributed it to an extreme case of food poisoning and tried to sleep it off, taking her _fixed_ medicine every so often to assure a full recovery.

She never found the fatigue or drowsiness odd, nor the unusually prolonged hours of sleep, where she may or may not have been displaced to allow for a specific blond to use her identity for a little bit. Not that he could have taken advantage of her position or anything, he would never…

And even if she was noted to have acted strangely, it wasn't like ill people didn't act weird from time to time, when the girl was discovered she was practically swaying on her feet and as hot as a furnace. Hell, when she was woken up the next morning and questioned about her little adventure, she attributed to a waking dream before she tiredly fell back asleep.

She was often known to sleepwalk, **poor girl.**


End file.
